


Living Bad Metaphors

by MissBaudelaire (IWillBeTheEndofYou)



Category: Game Grumps, JonTron - Fandom, Jonathan Jafari - Fandom, Normal Boots, Youtube RPF
Genre: Conventions, F/M, I am a bad person, Jon wears flannel, Romance, Sass, shhh - Freeform, such the sass
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-16
Packaged: 2018-09-17 09:06:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9314804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IWillBeTheEndofYou/pseuds/MissBaudelaire
Summary: Lita, in desperate need of some cash, finds herself working at a convention as a wrangler. There she meets Jonathan Jafari, better known as JonTron. Sparks will fly.





	1. Keep Your Clipboard Close

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea why I did this. I hope it's okay. I feel so wrong.

I glanced down at my clipboard, tapping my pen against the paper. I had circled and marked up different events of the agenda, notes to myself and reminders. This was only my first year working the con, and I wanted to do it right.

“Hey, Lita?” my supervisor was suddenly next to me, and I barely managed not to jump. I turned with a smile, hoping I wasn't turning pink. He smiled and pointed to a door.  
“Your charge is going to come through there. You ready?” he looked me up and down and then flipped my badge, dangling on my lanyard.

“Of course I am! He's a person, just a regular person.” I shrugged and got ready to head over, juggling the clipboard so I could tuck the pen behind my ear. I wished I had tied my hair in a bun so I could stick the pen in it.

“Yeah...” the my supervisor looked uncomfortable and trotted to keep up with me. He grimaced. “There are quite a few who think that they're better than us. I don't think Jonathan is like that.” 

“Then I'll be fine.” I adjusted the earpiece and made sure I was on the right frequency. My supervisor looked me up and down and gave me a thumbs up before disappearing into the crowd. 

I wasn't sure why I was assigned wrangler my first year working the con. As far as I could tell it was a position that a lot of people wanted. I would have been happy working guest services, or just walking around trying to make sure everyone was having a good time. 

But, no. After the interview, the director said I was clearly a wrangler. Something about my upbeat personality, but the way I didn't take bull shit. She mumbled something about how sometimes they needed to be kicked down a peg or two. So here I was, in my bright colored t shirt and dark pants, ear piece and clipboard in tow. Geek Fest emblazoned across my chest, Staff printed on the back. I made sure my badge displayed my name so Jonathan would know who I was. I was told he'd been given a packet with my information.

“Hey,” I did jump that time. My pen slipped from my ear and clattered to the floor. I spun, my hand clamped to my thumping heart.

“Don't DO that!” I hissed. The boy who'd spoken to me chuckled softly and bent to help collect my accessories. He handed to them to me with a grin.

“You're Lita? I'm Jon.” he held out a hand which I shook. His hand was quite a big larger than me. He wasn't tall for the average person, but I drew the short end of the stick genetically and hovered a few inches under five foot five. Well, I thought. At least one of us could reach a higher shelf. He'd have to be on tiptoe, though.

“Hi, Jon. Looks like on your schedule you've got a tournament first?” I glanced at the board. “So we'll start walking over there. You need a drink or anything?” I briskly began to head towards the auditorium hosting our arcade.

“Nope, I'm good.” he was sideeyeing me thoughtfully. I gave a careful smile and hurried to the back elevators. Part of my job was to keep him from fans. In some ways, it made me feel shitty. Part of the thrill of going to a con was getting to be near these people that you loved. Part of the enjoyment of being crowded into these places and paying for the privilege was meeting the people that you adored and being with other people who wanted to meet them.

I punched the button for the elevator. 

“I haven't seen you at one of these before.”

“Well, would you remember if you did?” I gave a tight smile. “There's so many people, and you have so much to do while you're here. There's no way you can remember every wrangler.”

“I think I would remember you.” was this flirting? Was he hitting on me? I raised an eyebrow and took in his wide grin. I didn't often like when I couldn't read a person. His brown eyes seemed to flash, and I was almost certain he was kidding.

“Not used to people shorter than you?”

“You wound me, Lita.” he pressed a hand to his chest and I rolled my eyes. 

I managed to get him to the arcade and settle him into his seat. The crowd started to gather and a few fans got the chance to take a few pictures with him. Reluctantly, I shooed the rest away and told them to try again after the tournament. I trotted to get a water bottle for Jon and then took my post standing off to the side. I kept one eye on the fans, ready to flag down security if need be. 

But, now that I had a few free moments. I tucked the pen behind my ear and began tapping away at my cell phone. The tournament lasted an hour, with Jon quipping away, beating both his opponents. I had to shepherd Jon now to a panel.

Before he could even open his mouth, I handed off the bottle of water. Retrospectively, I should have gotten it just before the end of the game. It wasn't quite as cold now, but he took it gratefully. He tipped the bottle to me in salute before gulping it down.

“I heard JonTron was here.” I heard the voice as we headed down a hall. I froze, my eyes rolling towards his charge. He held up a hand and waited. The girls, teenagers with make up and bright eyes cane around the corner. They squealed and scurried over.

Patiently, I took pictures with their phones and listened to them chatter and quote from his videos, I supposed. He was kind, sweet even. He gave each of the girls a hug and made his apologies before following me towards more elevators.

“That was really nice of you.” I unwrapped a piece of gum and popped it in my mouth. He considered me for a moment.

“I'm only here because of people like them.”

“That's a humble away to look at it. I don't think everyone feels that way.”

“They're the ones I don't think last too long. Sure, for some of them it's a gimmick. But for the rest of us? It's just lame and makes you look like an asshole. You know?” I nodded thoughtfully and handed him a piece of gum.  
“What made you wanna do this? You don't look like a groupie.”

“I'm not.” I spat. He raised an eyebrow and I felt my cheeks going pink. “I mean... I'm not in this fandom. If you call what you do a fandom. Or something.” I sure wished my gum would cleanse the taste of foot from my mouth.  
“I've never actually seen one of your videos.”

“Unusual.” he was smirking. 

“Shut up,” I muttered, taking him to the panel. I parked him in his seat and made sure the water pitcher was full. “I'll be back in an hour and a half.”

“Sure you don't wanna stay?” he leaned back in his chair, head flopped back to meet my eyes. My fingers twitched, and I wanted to pass my fingers through his hair. It was fluffed, and I could smell the product in it. I wasn't sure if I wanted to give him a comforting caress, or just mess the hell out of his hair. I thought that would annoy him.

Annoying boys was always a hobby of mine. I crossed my arms and shrugged.

“I don't wanna take up a chair for someone who might really want to hear you speak.” I rubbed my upper arms. The air was cool, goosebumps rising on me. I hated that about cons, hated the sudden changes of temperature. Hated the heat from bodies all around me, then being dropped into a freezing room. The extremes made me feel out of sorts, unsure about exactly where I was.

“You won't,” he gestured to the four empty chairs tucked away at the side. Ah, they had even made provisions for the wranglers. I gave a thin smile and headed over, ready to curl up and wait for the people to come in and take some of the chill out of the air. Jon watched me for a few more seconds, frowning faintly.

The rest of the panel, more boys I sure didn't recognize came in. Their wranglers parked it next to me. They watched with some interested while I wriggled into a more comfortable position and tried to burrow into myself for warmth. 

The crowd came trickling in and Jon stood up. I jumped a bit, ready to scramble for anything he might need. He stripped off the flannel he was wearing over his geeky shirt. I thought he was going to drape it over the back of the chair. Instead he went over to me and wrapped it over my shoulders.

“Can't look after me if you're a Popsicle.” he murmured in my ear.

“Could just lick me?” I said before thinking. He paused and then burst out laughing. My face got hot again and I wanted to hide under the flannel. But he just walked back to his seat, still chuckling. The panel began, and I found myself paying attention.

The boys talked about how they felt about the future of gaming, how they felt about the new VR technology. They discussed what it was like to try and stay relevant on Youtube, the time and effort they really put into their videos.

That was the part I found most interesting. Everyone I knew had a vlog, or did vines or something. But these boys talked about the hours of editing, the effort to collaborate with someone do to their artwork. Trying to compose the themes. It was all part of becoming famous. They needed something to capture attention, to get those views and the fans.

They had another small photo op, and I hovered behind Jon. A few girls were scowling at me. I slid a few steps back, thinking I was in their shot, but they continued the dirty looks. I was confused for a minute, until I realized they were staring at the flannel I was wrapped in.

Jon's shirt. 

It wasn't a huge flannel like I would wear at home. But it was big enough that I didn't look lumpy with it over my shirt. Jon's arms were longer than mine, so I kept pushing the sleeves up. One girl caught my eye and then glanced away, refusing to acknowledge my smile.

“Lita?” his voice snapped me out of my thoughts, his hand on my arm. I snapped back to attention and checked our agenda.

“You've got a break. You wanna walk around, or head back to your room?” I shifted my clipboard and went to push the flannel off me.

“No, leave it on.” he drew his hand back. “Give it back tomorrow, when you have your hoodie that you forgot today I'm sure.”

Was I that transparent?

“So, where to now?”

“Can you walk me back to my room?”

We headed for the elevator, and I leaned against the backwall, still wrapped in his shirt. He had a meet and greet later that night, but my shift with him was over. One of the perks of being a wrangler, besides the free entry and discounted hotel room, was the short hours. 

“Will I see you again?”

“I think I have a double with you tomorrow.” I cocked my head. “I won't be able to wash your shirt. I'm sorry. But um, thanks for loaning it to me. That room was freezing.”

“They keep it cold so no one falls asleep.” he was watching me push up his sleeves. With an eyeroll, he yanked me close and carefully rolled them up to my wrists. “Drivin' me nuts, kid.”

His fingers brushed the bare skin of my wrist. Slightly rough against my pulse, sending shivers down my spine. He was so close to me, surrounding me with the smell of his cologne. Something faintly citrusy, which I wasn't used to on a boy. I was used to Axe, but I was grateful not to be choking on it.

“Thanks Lita,” the doors opened and he stepped away from me. “Maybe I'll see you at the meet and greet.”

Not likely. But I waved and headed back down to the dealer's room to see if there was anything that caught my eye. Standing alone in the elevator, I lifted the collar of the shirt to my nose. A trace of that smell came to me.


	2. Rumors

“Lita?” the supervisor of wranglers flagged me down as soon as I stepped into the dealer's room. I paused and then scampered over. 

“What's up? Is something wrong?”

“Oh no,” he shook his head then looked uncomfortable as I unhooked my earpiece. “It's not really wrong, I just... I heard some rumors.”

“Rumors?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Well... Jon gave you his shirt.” he pointed.

“Yeah, because I was freezing cold.” I scoffed. “What rumors are about that?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. I glared until he sighed. “Just a few girls saying that he must like you if he gave you his shirt.”

“He didn't want to see me turn into an ice cube. Thought that might result in a little litigation.”

“All right, Lita, all right.” he held up his palms. “It just isn't uneard of for a wrangler to have a crush and for the talent to maybe like them too.”

“Not likely.” I continued to wander, leaving my badge dangling. A few people came to ask for help, which was mainly me directing them to Lost and Found. I shoved my hands in my pockets and kept walking, happy to be wrapped in the shirt.

 

“Lita!” Jon grinned when I walked up to him the next morning. I was clutching a paper cup and gave him a blurry smile. “You got coffee?”

“No, hot chocolate.” I mumbled. I rubbed at my eyes and then reached into my tote bag and pulled out his shirt. I made to hand it to him, but his eyes were fixated on my drink. He gave me a pitiful look, so with a sigh I surrendered my drink.

Jon sipped it eagerly. He lowered the cup with a slow, goofy smile. I liked to put extra whipped cream in mine and then let it melt most of the way down. That way the drink   
was cool enough, and thick and rich, extra sweet. He looked at me, then at my cup, took another sip and handed it back.

“That's delicious.”

“I can get you one? Or a coffee?” I rubbed at my eyes with my free hand and tried not to yawn. He shook his head and watched me with a bemused air as I fished out my clipboard. I scanned down our agenda for the day, trying to figure out where we were going to start. But the words blurred, and I could only blink a few times.

“Lita, honey, we've got like an hour and a half. Relax. I can read a schedule myself, no matter what the diretors told you.”

“It's my responsibility---,” I began. He pressed one finger to my lips to hush me, then steered me to a chair at the table he had been sitting at when I stumbled in. I promptly   
folded my arms and rested my head on them. He patted my shoulder, then rifled through my bag to pull out his shirt. He lifted my head then put his waddded shirt under me.  
“Don't you want this back?”

“After you've drooled all over it?” he snorted. “Nah. You keep it.”

“I am not drooling.” I muttered, closing my eyes again. But I must have drifted off, because the next thing I felt was a hand on the back of my hair. The fingers were lightly rubbing against my scalp, and I murmured and pressed into the touch. The fingers pressed harder, then the palm skimmed down my loose braid, lightly twirling the end. 

“Lita?” a soft voice, warm and thick in my ear. “Lita, you fell asleep. Wake up, hon.”

 

“Mmm, five more minutes.” I mumbled, burrowing deeper into my pillow. A chuckle, and those fingers back in my hair.

“We'll be late, and I don't want you in trouble.” I opened my eyes then, focused in on Jon leaning over me, his hand on my head. I felt my face going hot and bolted upright, scrambling for my back, smoothing my hair with my own hands.

I hated my hair anyway. I only let it grow because short hair required too many hair cuts. I dyed it red, but I often let it go between dye jobs, so it was faded and my brown roots were showing. Such was the case now. I just twisted it in a loose braid to get it out of my face. The end swung past my shoulder blades, to be forgotten and neglected by me.

“Why did you let me sleep!” I squeaked, gathering my bag and his shirt. I'd remembered a sweater today, a long black cardigan with stupid big buttons. I didn't need his shirt, but again, he waved it away from me. I shoved it into my bag and scurried after him.

“I knew where to be. You looked tired. Did you not sleep or something?”

Truthfully no, no I had not slept. I had laid in my hotel room, the sinfully soft sheets surrounding me. I had the room the perfect temperature, and I was in my favorite pajamas. But sleep evaded me. I kept replaying the words of my supervisor in my head. Rumors. The looks the girls were giving me. The implied level of inappropriate.

“I slept fine.” I lied with a shrug. I put my board in my bag, happy to let him lead. I rubbed my elbow and didn't look at him, didn't consider his hair and the warmth in his brown eyes.   
“Is it—against the rules for a wrangler to date talent?”

“Oh ho ho,” he chortled and raised an eyebrow. “Do you have a crush on someone, Lita?”

“I wouldn't got that far.” I snorted. Really. I wouldn't. Mild passing interest sure. Crush? Nah.

“Well,” he looked thoughtful. “It isn't against the rules, not really. They just try and pair us up with people they think that won't happen to. It gets a little heated, all that one on one time with someone and relying on them and chatting to them in between events. And then there are the fans that come up, and if you're dating someone and someone comes up and hangs all over them...” he trailed off. Yeah, okay, fair point.

I hummed as we headed for the meet and greet, hanging in the back and keeping the line in something like an order. It was fine to hang out in clumps, it wasn't fine to cut. A few boys gave me the stink eye and I heard them muttering about the bitchy wrangler and how she didn't belong here.

I glared and swallowed hard. They told me it was a possibility. No one likes it when authority comes down on them. People dislike being told what to do, especially when they were excited and anxious. 

I turned my attention to Jon, shaking hands and signing a few items. He had a few kind words for all his fans, exchanged a few jokes, gave wide smiles. This was something I could never do. Everyone thought it was glamorous to be a celebrity, but I disliked the idea of always having to be 'on'. Sometimes I had a bad day and didn't like anyone being near me. At all. Ever.

“You're still single, right Jonny?” a girl with lovely, long blonde hair batted her eyes at him. She was wearing make up, I could smell her perfume. Jon chuckled and winked.

“You know me, my heart is only for Jacques,” who was that? His boyfriend? That might explain a few things.

“He's a bird, surely you have to know a woman can do things for you.” 

This was getting uncomfortable. I stepped forward and cleared my throat.

“Jon, we've got to get going.” it was true, he had another event in a few minutes. The girl scowled at me.

“You've got this bitch hanging around.” she jerked a thumb towards me. Before she could say another word, I stepped between them.

“This bitch is doing a job, you empty headed bimbo. One more word from you and I will call security and have you disbadged.” I snarled. Jon put a hand on my shoulder and steered me away before I could say too much more. 

“Come on, Lita.” he murmured. “You need some air.”


	3. And You'll be Mine

“You okay?” Jon asked, steering me towards the elevator to a side entrance. I nodded, biting down on my lip. We burst into the bright afternoon sun. I leaned against the smooth exterior of the hotel, pressed my palms to my eyes.  
“I don't think you're a bitch.”

“That wasn't what really bothered me.” I mumbled. “I've been called worse things than a bitch.”

“I really--.” he rubbed the back of his neck and then crossed his arms. “I don't know what to really say, Lita. I'm a little lost.” he gave me a wan smile.

“I don't know.” I dropped my hands and pulled my sleeves down over my fingers. “It was just something my supervisor said last night. Some of the other guests were whispering, and I let it get to me.”

“Oh,” he looked uncomfortable, watching the traffic crawling by our hotel. The hum of car engines and the dull murmur of conversations by us still didn't drown out the thumping of my heart. 

“You're gonna be late if you don't hurry.” I muttered, smoothing my hand down my braid. I turned to go back into the building, and he grabbed my elbow and spun me around.

“Don't let them get to you, Lita.” his voice was soft, different from the joking bravado I knew from his interactions with fans and from his panel. I shrugged and turned for the handle again.  
“It isn't worth it.”

“Yesterday you told me that you're only here because of these people.” I didn't bother looking at him. “And today you're telling me that they aren't worth it. Which is it?”

He was silent. There was something discomfiting in his silence. I also preferred the bravado more. I couldn't stand to look at his eyes, to see the depths of them taking in my suffering. Suffering that I wasn't even able to explain. 

“I have a job to do. Please follow me, Mr. Jafari.” and in more silence, he followed me to his next event.

***

I calmed myself sitting in the shadows of the game tournament he was hosting. Mario Party All Ages. He was able to clean up his commentary at least a little bit. Everyone was laughing as they completed the tasks for their teams. 

I lingered in the shadows, having fetched myself a bottle of soda from a cooler handy. I played with the edges of my badge, not listening to what he was saying. I replayed what my supervisor had said, I replayed what he had said about the jealousy and the disaster it was to really even like someone you were wrangling.

When the event was over, he lingered for a bit, saying hello and chatting. I watched the crew begin to clean up as he ambled over to me, hands in his pockets. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes, his head titled to the side, considering me.

This time, I was able to meet his eye.

“I think you're supposed to bring me a bottle of water.”

“I think you're a grown ass man and the cooler is right there.” I jerked my thumb towards it. “Unless you ask me nicely.”

“Oh Lita, delight of my eyes, light of my fucking life. Would you please do me, the greatest idiot you've ever know, the biggest favor of getting me a bottle of cold water?” he rolled his eyes and fell to his knees dramatically. Blushing furiously, I yanked him up.

“You're not the biggest idiot I know.” I got him the bottle and opened the cap for him. “In the top five, but not number one.”

“Guess I'll have to try harder.” I curled my lip at him and checked my board. “Lita? Are you okay? I mean, really okay?” I stopped and looked at him for a minute and shrugged, nodded.

“Yeah, I'll be fine. It's nothing to really be worried about. You're right, I shouldn't let what they say bother me.”

He was walking beside me through a quiet hall. He stopped short behind me, and I turned.

“What, what is it?”

Without another word, he stepped close to me, his hand touching the sides of my neck. My fae turned up to his, and his head turned ever so slightly. His lips ccame to mine, pausing for just a moment and then pressing into mine.

I froze, barely able to kiss back. His fingers tangled in the back of my hair and he pressed harder, his mouth opening just a little. I stepped close, angled my own head. This was, most likely, against the rules somewhere. But what no one else could see couldn't hurt me. His hands slipped down my body to rest on my hips, and my arms wrapped around his shoulders.

He broke apart for air, his hands gripping harder on my hips. I gasped, feeling the tingling in my lips and between my legs. My hands shook slightly as he drew me just a little bit closer to him. We stared at each other for a moment.

“I should go.” I whispered.

“You don't have to.”

His hands slowly left my body, and he started walking towards his next event. I trailed after him, a fog drifting over my head. We headed for exit again, and I froze in the doorway. Maybe he didn't want me to go with him? Maybe he meant I didn't have to leave because he was going to leave?

“You comin'?” he called over his shoulder.

Well then. I hurried along until I was beside him. I had to walk a little faster, his stride was longer than mine. He didn't slow down, but walked us purposefully towards a food van shilling tacos. He looked at me expectantly.

“What?” I blinked.

“Beef or pork?” 

“Beef?” I shrugged. He walked up to the window and came back with two soft shell tacos and handed me one. He handed me a napkin and began to eat nonchalantly. I stared.

“Eat, your shell is getting soggy.”

“If you'll tell me what the hell that was all about!”


End file.
